Snake Poison
by orangepajamas
Summary: What if the Basilisk poison wasn't completely gone? During the summer after Chamber of Secrets, Harry experiences an episode of shooting pain. Warning: Child Abuse!
1. The Dursleys

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Duh...

This is my first fanfic... so yay. It's probably rated K+, but I'm rating it T cause it's kinda violent, and better safe then sorry! )

* * *

Harry was well acquainted to the sensation of pain. He could even tolerate it most of the time, or ignore it. But at the current moment, he could not feel anything but his uncle's fist, crashing against his face. 

"YOU-"

Another blow was thrown against his ribs.

"WORTHLESS-"

A well placed kick sent him falling to the floor.

"FREAK!"

And his uncle then spat on Harry, who by that time had resigned himself to his fate, and was lying submissively on the floor.

His uncle scoffed at the boy. "Pathetic. You're truly pathetic. Your not even worth the effort that it would take to punish you." And Vernon Dursley left Harry lying there, by the old cupboard that once was Harry's room.

Harry watched his uncle leave the house. Oh, how he hoped that Vernon wasn't going to a bar to get drunk. If he was, Harry knew he could expect to be bruised and battered too badly to move. Harry knew he had been lucky tonight thus far, he would most likely have only a few bruises where his uncle had struck him. Vernon used to break bones without much remorse; but since Harry had gone to Hogwarts, he would not hurt Harry as much for fear of unexplained injuries being noticed.

The small twelve year old smiled at the thought of his true home. Hogwarts. Soon he would go back for his 3rd year, and he would not have to deal with Vernon for another year.

Sighing, Harry rose from the floor. A dilemma. Should he leave the house and sleep out in the park, so his when his drunk uncle got home, he wouldn't be used as a human-punching bag? Or maybe he could hide in his old cupboard? But Harry was exhausted, and sleeping outside or in the cramped cupboard would be very uncomfortable. His bed upstairs wasn't the comfiest of items, but it seemed oh-so tempting right now. Harry grimaced in pain, and making his decision, limped upstairs to his bed.

* * *

_Liquid pain._

_Hot and cold at once. _

_Swimming through his veins._

_Burning his lungs._

_The poison spreads._

Harry woke in a cold sweat, jerking upward. Ouch. Harry gingerly placed his hand to his ribcage, knowing that a bruise already had formed. Looking to his window, Harry guessed that it was at least Six in the morning. Huh. So his uncle hadn't gone drinking, or at least not enough to send him into a rage and beat Harry. Odd.

Harry got out of his bed, and dragged himself to his closet, changing a pair of oversized jeans and a threadbare white t-shirt; both used by Dudley before him. Harry frowned at his clothes. He really hated wearing Dudley's old stuff. It wasn't like he was _vain_ or anything, but he looked truly haggard in them, with his messy black hair, often bruised arms and face, and old worn clothes. He could easily understand how the neighborhood believed he was a criminal, his appearance fit the part.

Shaking himself out of his musings, Harry thumped his way downstairs. The Dursleys wouldn't wake for another hour or so, and Harry would start breakfast in thirty minutes, but right now Harry had the house to himself. Making a quick decision, Harry ran outside to grab the newspaper. Harry didn't often get news from the outside world, both muggle and wizard. Unfolding the front page, his eyes were met with a bold headline.

**SIRIUS BLACK:**

**Mass Murderer Escapes!**

Underneath the caption was a picture of the lunatic, with wild black hair and seemingly insane eyes. Harry shuddered at the man. With his luck, Black would show up in the middle of Harry's chores outside and brutally murder him in the flowerbeds. Harry still felt fear when he remembered his first two adventures, he didn't need to add a third!

Folding the newspaper up and placing it back outside so Vernon wouldn't know that he read it, Harry started breakfast.

* * *

-Two Weeks Later- 

His lungs were on fire! Harry coughed manically in his room, wheezing and cringing in pain. What was happening? His uncle had not touched Harry in weeks, why did he feel like this?! Gritting his teeth, Harry rolled onto his bed.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in.

Harry tried to ignore the way his sides shot off twinges of agony every time he breathed, and just concentrated on drawing breathe after breathe. He could deal with the pain. He wasn't a baby, for Pete's sake! In a couple of hours it would be his thirteenth birthday, and he would be a teenager! A teenager could handle a little bit of pain.

Come on. Just breath.

The pain faded eventually, but Harry did not notice it, since he was currently in deep thought.

_What is this? What was all that pain? It seemed to be centered on my lungs and arms, but why? Maybe I'm sick? Great. Just Great. I'm going to be sick on my birthday. And Aunt Marge is coming in a week, and if I'm too sick to cook dinner for them Vernon is going to skin me alive. Huh. I wonder if people actually skinned each other alive once… Oops! Off-subject. Maybe I ought to write someone… Not Ron, cause if Mrs. Weasley hears it will get to Dumbledore before I can say 'Lumos'. Hermione, then. I'll just tell her about the symptoms and see if she knows if it's some weird kind of wizard sickness._

Grabbing a pen and a scrap of paper from his trunk, (Harry had managed to trick Vernon, telling him it was hexed this year, and if Vernon touched it, then he would turn into a pig; thus letting Harry keep it in his room.) Harry quickly scribbled a note to his female friend.

_Herm-  
I think I might have a wizard sickness or something. A half a hour ago, it felt like my lungs were burning, and I had trouble breathing. Also, my arms hurt too. Don't worry, it passed in about ten minutes, but I have no idea what happened. I haven't been Injured or feeling sick, it was totally random! Do you know if it's a normal sickness, or just another thing that makes me weird? Please mail me back using Hedwig, I'll tell her to wait for your reply. _

_-Harry_

_P.S. Don't tell anyone. It's not that serious._

Satisfied with his letter, Harry unlocked Hedwig's cage and handed her the letter.

"Hedwig, this is for Hermione. Wait for her reply, ok? Be careful, girl." Harry opened the window and let Hedwig fly into the night sky.

Harry watched wistfully as she disappeared from his view. If only he could leave as easily as that.

Just noticing that his arms were incredibly sore, Harry cringed a little when he realized how hard it would be to cook tomorrow morning. Debating whether or not to go to bed early to get over the pain, but break his lifelong tradition of waiting till midnight for his birthday, Harry sat down on his bed and glanced at his digital clock on the desk. 11:43 p.m. Might as well wait.

Seventeen minutes of humming 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' passed somewhat quickly, and Harry smiled in pleasure when the clock changed to midnight. He stood up and looked out into the sky, where he saw that there were owls coming to his window.

Petting the bronze owl who landed first, Harry placed it on the arm of his bed, and unrolled the letter and attached package.

_Harry-_

_Happy Birthday, Mate! I hope you've been having a great summer! Sorry for not owling you before, but we've been in Egypt! Dad won some galleons from work, so we took a vacation! _

_Fred and George say 'Happy Birthday' . Oh. And Ginny is hovering over me while I right this, so I suspect she wants to wish you a happy birthday too, but is too shy. Ah well. Mate, I wanted to give you something awesome from Egypt, but everything's so bloody expensive! _

_So I got you something else. That's all I'm saying. Open it now!_

_-Ron_

Harry looked at the small package attached to Ron's letter, and unwrapped the brown paper covering it.

A book? Ron had given him a book?! Harry gaped. Did Ron get gift-giving advice from Hermione? Frowning, Harry examined it more closely. The book was red with a gold binding, but was blank of all labeling. Harry shrugged and opened the cover.

And gasped in shock.

Little action figure-sized quidditch players in red and gold crawled out the book. Little quidditch players with Gryffindor badges on their uniforms?! It was the Gryffindor quidditch team! Harry watched, wide eyed, as his counterpart waved cheerfully at him, and climbed on his broom.

Before a full blown game could start, Harry shut the book, effectively making the figures disappear.

The next few owls were from Hagrid and Hermione, and neither had a letter attached. _Hermione must of not gotten my letter yet._ Hagrid gave him a book about monsters that seemed to be possessed by a demon, since it kept trying to bite his hands off, and Hermione sent him a book also.

Harry choked at the title when he saw it. How to Deal with Bitter Teachers?! Was she implying that he didn't handle Snape well?!

But even though he should have been tweaked at the gift, he couldn't help but chuckle at it. Harry gave the owls a few crackers that he had snatched from dinner, and let them fly off.

Jumping back on his bed, Harry closed his eyes and tried to fall back into oblivion.


	2. Going to Diagon Alley

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and I never will.

Thanks to the people who reviewed. I hope you like this chapter, too!

* * *

Harry- 

_Are you sure it's not serious? I've never heard of such a illness. At first I thought it could be Belladonna Syndrome, but that only results from exposure from a Dragon poisoned with Belladonna that has recently mated, and I figured that there was no way you were experiencing that. You have to tell Dumbledore if it happens again, Harry. You probably should tell him now. There's no reason to go through pain when Madame Pomfrey can most likely fix it in a jiffy!_

_Any way, I hope you like my present. The book has good advice, Harry. Have a good summer, and stay out of trouble!_

_-Hermione_

Clutching the letter in his hands, Harry groaned when another spasm of pain went through his arms. Throughout the day, his arms were constantly in agony. And now that Hermione admitted that even she- Bookworm to the extreme- didn't know what it was, Harry was scared. What if it was a very rare disease that would kill him? What if it sucked out his magic or something, and he had to live with the Dursleys' until he was an adult?!

Even though Harry knew he should owl Dumbledore, he hesitated. Vernon had backhanded Harry this morning when he dropped a glass, and it left a bruise on the right side of his face. If Dumbledore saw, questions would be asked. Even though there was no lost love between Harry and the Dursleys, he did not want to be taken from them, for fear of going to an orphanage.

Harry didn't believe much of what the Dursleys said, but the one thing that they said that stuck was, '_If it wasn't for us, you would of gone to an orphanage. We treat you like saints compared to what you would have to live through there.'_

Horror stories they told him, about how the older kids whipped the children if they talked too loudly, about how they only got food once a week, and how no one would ever adopt him.

Harry knew that it couldn't be that bad, but he un-rationally had a fear of orphanages, and he never wanted to be sent to one. If that meant having to live through abuse, then so be it.

His arms started to shake, and Harry cursed under his breath. It was only nine o-clock, and he had to do all his chores before Vernon got home. With his arms in the state they were, there was no way he could possibly accomplish doing them.

If he didn't do his chores, Vernon would be angry. If Vernon was angry, Harry's back would meet the belt once more. Harry flinched at the thought. He didn't need more pain added on to what he was already dealing with! The emerald green eyed boy huffed at his choices. So he could go to Dumbledore and spare himself pain for now, but eventually get sent to an orphanage, or he could stay here, and be beat by his uncle and possibly die or get seriously sick from this mysterious torture.

Or… was there a third option?

A plan was quickly forming in Harry's mind. What if… he didn't stay at Privet Drive, but didn't go to Hogwarts? Diagon Alley had a Apothecary, didn't it? He could buy some pain-relieving potion there, and then stay at the Leaky Cauldron until term started.

Grabbing his trunk and letting Hedwig out with a command of 'find me in Diagon Alley', Harry ran downstairs to where Dudley and his Aunt Petunia sat at the table, eating a late brunch.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry said, getting her attention.

Sneering, his aunt looked up at him. "What is it, boy? Shouldn't you get at your chores?"

"Aunt, I'm going to be leaving early this summer. Bye." Before his Aunt could reply, Harry speeded out of the house, dragging his trunk behind him.

Outside, Harry had to reflect if this was the smartest action. Naturally, he had no idea how to get to London from Privet Drive walking, and he had no muggle money to buy a subway or train ticket to London. Nonetheless, Harry continued down the street, trying to ignore the constant trembling of his arms.

Out of the corner of his eye, a movement caught Harry's attention. Grabbing his wand from his pocket, Harry turned to the bushes, where he saw rustling. _Don't panic. It's probably nothing. It's not a threat. _Harry stepped forward, ready to fight if needed.

A dog.

A big black dog.

Harry laughed. He was worried about nothing. Kneeling down to the dog, Harry grinned at it's delighted expression.

"Hello, old fellow." Rustling up the dog's fur, Harry let himself relax from the panic he had been in from yesterday. He was not going to die. He might of fallen in a small situation, but he would make the best of it.

"You look hungry, don't you? Are you a stray?" Talking to the dog while he pet it was calming, Harry decided. "I'm starving too. I slept through breakfast, and last night I didn't get dinner cause I forgot to sweep the hallway. Actually, I don't think I had lunch yesterday either…" The dog growled at this statement, causing Harry to flinch. "Hey, calm down buddy."

The dog emitted a low whine, and butted his muzzle against Harry's hand. "Oh, you're sorry then?" Harry beamed, and continued. "You don't really have to be. I don't think you were mad at me, right?"

The dog let out a bark, and Harry took it as a 'Right!' Harry looked at the dog's brilliant blue eyes and paused. It's eyes were very… Intelligent. Almost human like. Harry frowned at this, but ignored the stray thought, reminding himself that it was only a dog.

His arms were getting worse, Harry noticed. Liquid pain pulsed upwards and downwards, making Harry bite down on his lip to prevent a whimper from escaping him. Letting his arms fall from petting the mutt, Harry gripped the ground, trying to prevent the throbs from becoming too violent.

Startled, the canine nuzzled Harry, trying to find out what was wrong. Harry gasped, having trouble breathing since the burning had returned to his lungs.

"I'm….ok…." Harry lied to the dog. Still in pain, Harry clumsily stood, determined to not waste any more time to get to the pain-relieving potion. Faint from his torment, Harry tripped over his trunk, falling to his knees, arm outstretched, with wand in hand-

-And in the street appeared a triple-decker purple bus, gold lettering reading 'The Knight Bus'.

Even though in extreme pain, Harry still could shockingly exclaim, "Bloody Hell!"

The door slid opened, revealing a conductor clad in purple. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your-" The conductor paused in shock when he spotted Harry, sweating and shaking on the ground. "Are 'choo okay?" He asked worryingly, peering down at the teenager.

Harry exhaled in relief at the bus. He had found a way to London! The convulsing fire in his lungs had lessened, and he could hiss out a "just fine" to the conductor.

"Err…" The expression on the young man's face clearly stated that the last thing Harry looked like was 'just fine'. "Well… 'hen. I'm Stan Shunpike, and I'll be your conductor…" Stan frowned in concern when Harry struggled to stand up. Stan seemed to make a decision, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him up. "'Choo go and take a seat. I'll get your 'runk. Don' worry 'bout the fee."

Harry, surprised at the man's kindness, didn't make a move to go sit down even after Stan let him go, and only got on the bus after Stan made a little shooing motion with his hand, while he was picking up Harry's trunk. Before stepping through the door, Harry looked outside to see if the stray was still there. Somewhat disappointed that it wasn't, Harry entered the Knight Bus.

Harry made his way to the first bed up front, and flopped down on it. His arms were only aching now, and his lungs had stopped burning almost completely. Feeling slightly guilty for having Stan get his trunk when he was now almost fine, he moved his arms to get some money from his pocket, and cried out when the slightest movement from them increased the dull ache to an agonizing torment for a few moments, until they calmed once more.

Harry hoped that his scar was covered, for there was no way he could move his arms to flatten his hair.

Stan dragged Harry's trunk next to the boy's bed, and looked down at him. "Right then. Where to?"

Harry smiled at Stan, and answered, "London. Diagon Alley, more precisely."

Stan nodded his head, and stood across from Harry. Stan sent concerned glances at Harry every once and a while, but refrained from speaking to him, as he was worried that it would send Harry into a seizure.

The bus stopped suddenly, and Harry would be flung across the aisle, if it wasn't for Stan grabbing Harry's shoulders and preventing him from falling.

"'Ere's your stop." Stan told him, letting his arms fall to the side. "Be 'areful, Kid."

* * *

Diagon Alley was as crowded as ever, Harry observed, slowly walking down the long street. Walking past the Ice Cream Parlor, Harry cringed when he realized if anyone saw him, and recognized him, he would be sent back to the Dursleys, or to Hogwarts. 

_Better not go to shops that Hogwarts students might be in. Just go to the Apothecary, then The Leaky Cauldron. _

Avoiding colliding with a old hag with bright green hair, Harry maneuvered around the crowd, until he stood in front of the weather-worn shop, looking up at the small sign in the dusty window.

**Diagon Alley Apothecary**

**For all your _legal_ potion needs**

Walking inside, Harry marveled at the shelves upon shelves of potion ingredients, and was content to stare at an odd looking pink fish that was frozen in one of the larger jars, until a coughing from behind the counter got his attention.

The man was odd-looking, Harry decided. Dark long brown hair fell in front of the man's face, hiding all of his features, except for half of the crooked smile he was sporting, and one of his light-green eyes, which was touched with a bit of madness.

"Ahhh… A bit early for Hogwarts' students, isn't it?" The man croaked to Harry, his smile growing.

Harry could not help but back away from the man, while he tried to fearlessly answer, "I'm not here for my supplies."

The man shrugged, as if he already knew that. "What is it then, boy?"

"I need… a pain-relieving potion." Harry told the man, from a safe distance away.

"Oh?" The man seemed curious. "That's easy enough to get for you. Except the most potent ones are in Knockturn Alley… they're made with unicorn blood, you see?" Before the man could start on a full blown potions lecture, Harry interrupted.

"I don't need one from Knockturn Alley." Harry said, not sure if he should admit his symptoms, and see what potion would be the best.

"Ah. Well… how much pain are you in, boy? Don' wanna overdose you, do we?" Leered the man, smiling at Harry's indecision on whether or not to tell him.

"My arms ache constantly, and every once and a while I go through a period when my lungs burn and I can't breathe easily, and my arms shake wildly after." Harry admitted, deciding that it was just a creepy old man, no reason to hide his weakness.

The man looked worried at the symptoms, Harry noticed, with his ever-present grin swiftly disappearing.

"It sounds like Belladonna Syndrome…" The man grumbled to Harry. "Been around a recently mated Dragon that was poisoned?"

Harry shook his head 'no'. The man sighed, and looked at Harry with a critical eye. "You don' wanna take pain-relieving potion for an unknown malady, boy. The crushed rattle-snake fangs may react badly with whatever's in your system…"

Harry grimaced in displeasure at the thought of having to live with the annoyance of his arms, and expressed that fact.

The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and replied, "Sore-Relief cream may help with the arms… And none of the ingredients are dangerous…" He left the counter, and entered a door behind him, which closed with a 'thwack'.

A few minutes later, the man returned, carrying a handful of potions, which he set down on the counter.

"'Yanya Blacktwitch Most Potent Sore-Relief', and 'Respiratory Bothers Cure' ought to help." He pointed at two of the potions he brought, one a dark black cream, and another a thin light blue liquid. "Also, I think you might of wanted this 'Bruise Removal Paste' for your jaw." He motioned at the 3rd item, a thick yellow paste.

Harry had forgotten about the bruise that was prominent across his right jaw, and was grateful to the man for fetching the remedy. "How much?" Harry asked, digging in his pockets to fetch his coin purse.

The bell over the door that signaled a customer had entered went off, but Harry did not take interest in looking for who it was, and rather listened to the man charge 3 galleons.

Handing over his money, Harry grabbed the potions, and made to leave the store, concentrating on keeping his balance and not letting the three potions fall from his arms, not looking up, thus not seeing the man he was about to run into.

Bumping in an obstacle, Harry looked up to apologize, and paled in silent dread.

"Taking an interest in healing potions, Mr. Potter?" In front of Harry was the last man he wanted to see right now.

Severus Snape.

* * *

AN: Yay, Snape! 

Review, please?


	3. The Leaky Cauldron

_Disclaimer: _I do not own Harry Potter.

Authors Note: Thanks to all the reviewers!

* * *

Snape. For the love of Merlin! He must have been the most unluckiest guy ever, running into Snape within an hour of running away. _Does my luck only come into play when my life's in danger or something? _

Oh. Yeah. Snape seemed to be waiting for him to say something. "…Hello. Sir."

Snape sneered down at the boy. "Potter. Tell me, why are you not with your relatives, and instead in Diagon Alley, buying potions?"

Harry felt like running behind the counter and hiding, so he wouldn't have to answer Snape. Instead he made up a suitable lie. "Buying school supplies, sir."

Eyes narrowing, Snape hissed. "Oh? I didn't know that the supply list included healing potions. Explain why you have those, Potter."

_Think up a lie… come on… shit, nothing can explain them…_

"Um… I got them for a friend?"

The look on Snape's face clearly told Harry that his lie was quite pathetic. Harry was hyper aware of Snape's eyes scanning Harry's body, and taking stock of the fading bruises on his arms (From where Dudley had pushed Harry into the wall a few weeks ago) and the fresh bruise on his face, from dear old Vernon.

"Is that so, Potter?" A calculating glint appeared in Snape's eyes, making Harry feel like a rare potion that Snape had the chance to observe brewing.

"Yep." Snape didn't seem to believe him, if his lip curling meant anything.

"Tell me Potter, how did you acquire that _charming_ bruise displayed on your face?"

Oh. God. Snape figured everything out really fast. Or at least, he had a suspicion of the truth, or part of it. "Um…" Harry paused. He was going to say 'I fell down the stairs' but that was a terrible excuse, and would be seen through easily. "I got in a fight." It was partly true, anyway.

Scowling, Snape growled. "The truth."

Harry felt like punching something. How could Snape tell that he was lying?! "It is the truth, _SIR._ I got into a fight. I'm here for my supplies, and the potions are for…" _Give a name, give a name. _"Hermione. She's doing tests on them to compare and contrast muggle remedies and potions." _That was believable, wasn't it? _

Snape still looked far away from believing him, but it seemed like he lost interest.

Snape was probably the last wizard to care if Harry was safe or not, and only wanted answers if it meant that he could get Harry in trouble. Snape probably sensed that there was little chance of getting the complete truth, and couldn't find anything incriminating from the little information he knew.

Snape waved Harry off while he went to the counter, and Harry had to repress a giggle of happiness. Ha! He didn't have to go to Hogwarts!

Harry then knew the second that thought passed through his head, that he jinxed himself.

This time, his whole chest was bubbling with pain, instead of only being in his lungs. Harry's breath became labored, and he cursed his luck again. _I have to freaking go into a seizure-thing while Snape's in the room. _Snape, though, seemed to be deep conversation with the creepy old guy, and didn't notice Harry's fit.

Trying not to drop the potions in his hands, Harry backed away slowly, making his way to the door.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Harry concentrated on moving one foot after the other, and his breathing. Almost there.

Backing out of the shop, Harry didn't notice that there was a step from the Apothecary to the ground, and fell backwards.

**CRASH!**

One of the glass jars broke on top of Harry, spreading the light blue liquid across his body.

_Shit._

Tears began to form in his eyes from the pain. _It… hurts… so much!_ Harry looked upward, into the shop, and was glad to see that Snape and the old guy must of gone into the potion-room. Harry tried to ignore his chest, and wiped off the broken glass and potion spread on him. Using all of his will, he pulled himself up by grabbing the door, and collected his remaining potions. Limping down the alley, Harry headed to The Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

A half-hour later, and about twenty concerned glances later, Harry was in his room at the Leaky Cauldron. The pain was almost gone, and Harry felt comfortable surveying his room. 

It was small, but cozy. There was a single bed in the corner, and a dark red rug covering the wooden floor. The single window on the opposite side of the room, was framed with lace white curtains, and across from the bed was an old desk and vanity, and a small wardrobe.

Going over to the vanity, Harry sat the potions down. The bruise cream and sore-relief were still intact, but he broke a vial of the stuff for his lungs, and only had one more.

Harry inspected the bruise cream. If this worked, he could get rid of the evidence of Vernon's abuse, and go to Hogwarts to be healed. He was skeptic on the effectiveness of the sore-relief and lung-stuff, so if they didn't work, he would have a back-up plan.

Grabbing a handful of bruise gunk, Harry rubbed it on his face and groaned at the warm sensation that spread across his face. He then applied it to the bruises on his arms and the few fading ones scattered across his chest.

The sticky yellow paste sank into his skin, leaving clear skin behind. Satisfied with the results, Harry closed the lid and put the jar in his trunk. This would come in handy the next time he went to Privet Drive.

Falling on the white cot, Harry asked himself what he was going to do. What if he was dying? A few pain killers wasn't going to help, but what if he went to Hogwarts and they couldn't do anything for him? What if they told him that he his days were numbered, and sent him back to the Dursleys to spend the rest of his days with 'family'?

If he died, Ron and Hermione would be crushed. They deserved better than him, but they still stuck by him through everything. If only they knew… that he was a weak little boy, who couldn't even stick up to his muggle uncle. He could picture their expressions if they heard; Hermione pale, tears running down her face, and Ron confused and shocked. They would pity him, and pretend to understand. But in the back of both of their minds, they would feel disgust. They would ask themselves, where is the Gryffindor hero? The boy-who-lived?

Harry knew that he had to protect his secret to the grave, and always hide behind the Hero persona, and never show the fear that was always present, the fear that was drilled into him from his uncle.

* * *

Harry was woken by a persistent tapping at the window. Groaning at the light hitting his face, Harry opened the window for Hedwig to come inside. 

"Hey, girl. I'm glad you found me." Harry ran his fingers through her feathers, smiling at her joyous hoot. Glimpsing a letter tied to Hedwig's leg, Harry removed the letter, and promptly opened it.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_This morning, Professor Severus Snape expressed his concern to me, about finding you in Diagon Alley, buying healing potions, all alone. Considering recent events, It is imperative that you inform Headmaster Dumbledore if you are injured or need help. Your relatives home is the safest place for you, Mr. Potter, and you shouldn't leave them unless necessarily. Hagrid will be meeting you in the Leaky Cauldron at Noon today, to discuss why you left your home. If you need help, please don't hesitate to tell him. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Professor Minerva McGonagall _

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry scowled at the letter. Snape told on him! Yeah, right, 'concern'. More like wanting to get him expelled… Harry puzzled over the line 'considering recent events'. Had something happened?

Looking at the clock hanging on the wall, he realized it was already Eleven, and cursed. Harry rooted through his trunk, and put on a dark black t-shirt and his school uniform trousers, which actually fit him. Running downstairs, Harry surveyed his surroundings. The Leaky Cauldron wasn't too crowded, with only a couple of tables full, and the bar almost completely empty. Walking past a couple of teenage witches dressed very proactively, Harry ended up in front of the bar, and sat down.

"Hello, poppet." The server grinned warmly at Harry, and patted the boy's head. "Feeling better?" The woman had served him last night, and in the middle of eating Harry's arms started trembling wildly. The middle aged witch had help him to his room, and gotten the potions for him, also. The potions lessened the pain some, but it still was terrible, so Harry was debating whether or not to tell Hagrid about it when he met him today.

Ordering a butterbeer, Harry relaxed in his seat. Really, what were they doing, sending Hagrid? Harry could tell Hagrid that he got lost, and just ended up in Diagon Alley, and Hagrid probably would believe him! He wouldn't betray Hagrid's trust like that, though. Harry would tell the truth. Well, part of it anyway. Hmm… what to tell him?

Contemplating this over a warm cup of butterbeer, Harry almost missed Hagrid come in. Well, _almost_. It was kinda hard not to notice when Hagrid came in, being the huge man he is.

"Harry!" Hagrid waved cheerfully at Harry, lumbering over to him. "Ah, 'Arry, how's your summer been?" Hagrid sat down on the barstool next to Harry, causing it to sink in.

Harry smiled guiltily at Hagrid. "Same as always, Hagrid." It was true, anyway.

Hagrid grinned at Harry. "So, let's get dow' to business. Why'd you leave your aunt's an' uncles', Harry?"

Should he tell him? Harry looked down, caught in an internal conflict. "My… uncle and I had a disagreement…" Harry felt terrible lying to Hagrid. "I lost my temper, and storm out of the house…"

Hagrid seemed to believe him, and smiled sadly at Harry. "Harry, you gotta be careful'. No stormin' off, tell Dumbledore firs'." Harry nodded his head in agreement, and Hagrid stood up. "Well, If your' alright, I'll be goin'." Harry looked shocked at how easy that was, but Hagrid must of thought it was a look of hurt, for he then told Harry, "I would da' stayed, but I have Hogwarts' business." Hagrid ambled off, leaving a relieved, and slightly disappointed Harry Potter behind.

* * *

"The boy looked very ill, Headmaster." Severus Snape said over a cup of tea, sitting across from the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. Situated in Albus' office, they were currently discussing the young teenage boy named Harry Potter. "Probably got into another harebrained adventure." He sneered under his breath. 

"What were the potions Harry was buying?" Albus asked, concerned about the boy he regarded as a grandson of sorts.

Snape scowled at the thought of Harry, and recollected. "Potter-" He spat the name out as if it was poisonous- "Had purchased a Bruise Removal Paste, Respiratory Bothers Cure, and a extremely strong Sore-Relief." Lip-curled, Snape elaborated. "He told me that he bought them for _Granger_, but I seriously doubt that, since he had various bruises across his arms, and one on his face. I have no idea what the other potions were for, but the Bruise Removal was obviously for him."

The twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes disappearing, the worry was obvious in the way he asked, "Did you ask how he got the bruises?"

"Yes, but the boy told me that he 'got into a fight'." Snape scoffed. "Even the most ignorant Legilimens could pick up that lie."

Frowning, Dumbledore sighed. "Hagrid didn't mention any bruises, when I talked to him a few hours ago, so Harry must of used the paste…" Dumbledore took a sip of tea, deep in thought. "I feel terrible leaving the boy in Diagon Alley alone while Black is on the loose…"

"Send the boy back home, then."

Shaking his head, Dumbledore rejected the idea. "Harry told Hagrid that they had a 'disagreement'. If Harry is fighting his relatives, it might be for the best if we let them have time apart."

Snorting, Snape stated his views on that. "Potter probably had a tantrum about not receiving enough gifts for his birthday, or something shallow as that."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at that. "Harry is not spoiled, Severus. You don't even know the boy."

"And I don't _want_ to know him. He'll be just as arrogant as his father, no doubt."

Dumbledore shook his head in exasperation, but let it go. He had encouraged Severus several times to get to know Harry, and every time Severus had replied with a negative comparison between Harry and James.

"Maybe I should send someone to watch over Harry for the remainder of the summer…?" Albus mused, ideas forming quickly in his head.

"Pity the poor sod who gets stuck with that job." Commented Severus, unknown of Dumbledore's most recent plan to get him and Harry 'closer'.

Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore replied with a too-innocent smile.

A few moments later, across the castle, Minerva could swear she heard Severus' angry shouting, declaring that 'there was no way in hell he would watch the brat!'.

* * *

Please Review/puppy dog eyes/ 


	4. Babysitting

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Thanks to the reviewers!

* * *

'_Harry!'_

_Blood splashed Harry's face._

_The girl clung to his chest, bleeding freely. Pale and scared, her voice was shaky. "Please save us, Harry." _

_He hadn't noticed the others._

_Hundreds of people were huddled around him, injured and begging for salvation._

_They were all depending on him._

_The girl looked desperate now, eyes panicked "You're the hero, Harry. We need you."_

_Blood._

_Raining down on his face, entrapping him. _

_The pleas were growing louder._

_"HELP!"_

_"HELP!"_

_"Help!"_

_"He- _ROOM SERVICE!"

Harry was awoken from his nightmare by the knocking at the door, signaling the maid."Come back later!" Harry called to the maid.

"They are busy, Mr. Potter. I doubt they can come clean on your every whim." A voice sounded from across the room.

Harry was thrown into another nightmare when he looked up.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM?!" Harry screeched to the intruder.

The intruder scowled at the boy's noisemaking. It wasn't like he was there to murder him, for god's sake!

Harry then realized the fact that he was only in his boxers, and that they were a little too big on him, and that they were sliding off slightly- remembering who was with him, Harry pulled the covers up to his chin.

"Get out, damn you!" Harry shouted, slightly scared and extremely angry.

The man scowled. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for cursing at a professor."

"SNAPE, DAMMIT! GET OUT!" Harry was fuming now, glaring angrily in the bastard's eyes. Why was the greasy bat watching him sleep?! Harry shuddered at the thought of Snape thinking of doing pedophilic things to him…

Snape, like he somehow knew what train of thought Harry was on, replied with a scowl. "The headmaster sent me to _baby-sit_ you for the remainder of the holiday." Sending a fierce glare to Harry, he continued. "You snore terribly, by the way. Drool, too."

Harry look affronted by that, by was secretly reassured that Snape wasn't divesting in perverted fantasies about him.

Harry sighed. "I don't need a babysitter. Go away."

Snorting, Snape retorted. "_Of course _you don't! No matter about the murderer on the loose, the _Great Harry Potter _can defeat him in minutes!"

Harry would be righteously angry about this if he wasn't so damn confused. "There's a murderer on the loose?"

Stare.

Blink.

"Are you living in a cave, Potter?"

"Oh, shut it, Snape. Just freaking tell me."

"Thirty points from Gryffindor." Harry was about to protest that he couldn't take points, when Snape continued. "Recently a mass murderer named Black-" Snape had said the name with more venom then when he said 'Potter', "has escaped from Azkaban. He was a great supporter of The Dark Lord, and ,reasonably so, wants to kill you." Snape explained, with a calm air around him, which was usually not expected when someone told you a murderer was after you. Of course, this was Snape.

Harry grimaced. Great. A lunatic was after him. Just freaking great.

Glaring at Snape, Harry acidly bit out, "Get out, Snape. I don't care if you stay in The Leaky Cauldron, but you're not going to be hanging around my room."

Affronted, Snape retorted. "Potter, the world does not revolve around you. If you thought I intended to stay in your room any longer than necessary, you would be incorrect. I was just here to explain the situation." At that statement, Snape left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Whoop-Dee-Do. A mass killer was after him, he was possibly dying from an unknown ailment, and Snape was here to watch him! Harry, getting up from bed, threw on a random shirt and jeans, and went over to the vanity, to inspect himself.

Harry's throat had become sore over the night, and had been unbelievably annoying. Now, it seemed worse when Harry saw that it somehow left a ring of bruises around his neck. _I wonder if Snape thought someone tried to strangle me… _

Rummaging in his trunk, Harry reopened the Bruise Removal Paste and applied it to the new bruises. Content when the bruises faded into nothing, Harry examined himself.

He looked sick, with an unhealthy pale white complexion and eyes dull green. Harry knew that he couldn't fool Snape into believing he was totally fine, but he thought he might be able to make him believe it was nothing serious and not send him to Pomfrey.

Remembering that he hadn't owled his friends yet, Harry grabbed a quill and a sheet of paper.

_Dear Hermione, _

_I'm sorry that I haven't written often, but guess where I am! Diagon Alley! It's totally great not having to hang around the Dursleys. But one downside: Snape. Since Black is one the loose, Dumbledore thinks its best if someone watches me. I think it's ridiculous! It's not like Black's going to grab me in the middle of a crowd of people! _

_Oh, yeah. Black's after me. Apparently he was chums with Voldemort, and wants revenge or something. But don't worry! There's no way he can get me here, 'Moine. So how's your summer been so far? I bet you've already done your summer homework, right? Write back soon!_

_-Harry_

Harry pulled out another sheet for Ron.

_Ron-_

_Egypt, Wow! I'm kinda taking a vacation from the Dursleys, too, but it's not as great as Egypt! I'm in Diagon Alley! It's awesome, but Dumbledore sent Snape to watch me. Yuck, right? It's terrible, really. When I woke up this morning, he was sitting in my room, watching me sleep, Ron! I wonder if I change inns he'll notice…_

_Oh, yeah. Thanks for the Birthday gift, It was amazing! It was quite a shock when I opened it! Write back soon,_

_-Harry_

Giving Hedwig the letters, Harry rubbed his throat warily, and gasped in shock when a bruise formed a few seconds later. Pain wracking his small frame, Harry collapsed on the bed.

* * *

Snape knew something was wrong with the boy when Potter left his room that evening. The way he walked was stiff and a sign of obvious discomfort and pain. Severus could care less, really, and was content to sit in the corner, sipping Firewhiskey. 

A motherly looking waitress had approached Potter, and was fussing around the boy, messing up the boy's unkempt hair, and cooing at Potter's slight pout.

Snorting, Severus sipped the drink. Did everyone have to spoil the boy? _Actually, _Severus thought, _If my theory is right, he's not spoiled at all._

Snape had seen many abused children throughout his years of teaching, and Harry's behavior was similar to many of them. Bruises littering the body, not trusting his elders, and flinching at flesh contact were all signs of abuse that the boy exhibited.

Severus had tried to deny it, at first, telling himself that Potter was an arrogant carbon-copy of his father, but when Snape had met the boy's emerald eyes that morning, he felt as if Lily was sending him a message.

_Don't ignore my boy, Severus. Please protect him._

When Severus had saw the green eyes of Lily's boy, the oath he made to her was brought to the front of his mind. It was his job to protect the brat, and damn it, he would! If that meant he had to accept that Potter hadn't lived a pampered and spoiled childhood, filled with opulent presents and excessive love, he would just have to acknowledge that.

_The boy wasn't eating much_, Snape thought frowning. _Aren't teenagers supposed to eat enough for three? _If Potter had eating problems as well, Severus was going to strangle him. _Speaking of strangle…_

Snape peered over at the boy, trying to see if the bruises were gone yet. Severus had no idea how the boy could of gotten the bruises on his neck, since it probably was improbable that one of the servers had tried to choke the boy to death. _Not that I would blame them…_

Ah. The bruises were gone.

He sighed at the thought of Bruise Removal Paste. The boy was stupid, using it all the time. Potter probably didn't even know how it worked. The paste didn't get rid of bruises, it just hid them underneath the skin, resulting in them healing slower. Well, Potter was just have to figure it out on his own. Severus wasn't going to tell the brat!

Potter had finished pushing around the food on his plate, and instead of eating it, had called the waitress to clean it up. Then the idiotic brat limped upstairs, and disappeared out of view.

* * *

The following week was complete hell for Harry. Bruises kept forming around his neck when he touched it, and his throat was always sore. It was getting harder to breath, since his lungs almost constantly burned, and his arms were stiff and sore. 

Even worse, Snape had followed him around like a guard dog every time he left the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was shocked that Snape hadn't figured out that he was ill yet, but Snape probably wouldn't care if Harry was lying dead on the street, so it wasn't really that much of a surprise that he didn't show any concern that Harry was sick.

He should of known that Snape would find out eventually.

* * *

Harry couldn't bother to get up from bed. His whole body was melting and freezing at once. If he pulled up his blankets, he was too hot, and when they were down, he was too cold. He couldn't stop sweating, and he had a terrible cough. 

He just wanted to die. This was absolutely terrible. He couldn't even find peace in sleep, since he was plagued with terrible nightmares.

Harry groaned in pain as another wave of heat washed over his lungs, bringing tears to his eyes. Rolling on his side, Harry sneaked a glance at the clock. It was almost noon, and if he didn't make an appearance downstairs, Snape would 'check up' on him. Well, to hell with that! He could go to Hogwarts, for all he cared! He was NOT going to get up.

Sweat seemed to be pouring out of him, and Harry was dizzy from the heat. Letting out another strangled cry, Harry passed out.

_All his friends lay dead before his feet._

_He couldn't save them._

_Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Neville, Ginny, Fred, George._

_All dead. It was all his fault._

_The blood spread across the floor, as Harry stood there. It was his job to save them. He had failed. _

_Shaking, Harry started to cry. It. Was. His. Fault. He shouldn't be allowed to live! Harry rose his hands to his face. _

_Blood. Dripping from his fingers._

_Harry let out a scream, blood dripping out of the corners of his mouth._

_Blood._

_Blood._

_The red liquid mocked him. Was it he who killed them? How else had their blood ended up on his hands? _

_"Potter." The sky pulsed with the ghostly voice._

_"Potter!"_

_"_POTTER!"

And Harry awoke.

Snape was above him, a look of _worry_ on his face?

"Potter, do you feel alright?" The voice was shaky, Harry observed. He must of looked like hell if Snape was unnerved.

"Perfectly-" Harry gurgled against blood. Why was there blood in his mouth? Harry gingerly sat up and spat the blood on the floor. "-fine, Professor."

Harry was really hot. Not caring that Snape was there, he threw the covers off to cool off. "Go 'way." Harry mumbled. He wanted to take a really cold bath, and he was not undressing in front of Snape!

"You just spat up blood, Potter! You're definitely not 'perfectly fine'!" Snape scowled at the foolish brat. "You're coming to Hogwarts."

Harry coughed in protest. "I'm-"

More blood spurted out of his mouth.

"Don't finish that sentence, Potter. I'm not dense. You are not 'fine'." Snape found himself picking up the boy, and ignoring the coughs of protest, left the room and apparated to the outskirts of Hogwarts.

* * *


	5. The Infirmary

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!

Thanks to the reviewers! Wow, 25!

* * *

Exhausted and grimy, a convict by the name of Sirius Black collapsed in front of the gate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of course, no one who saw him recognized him as the mass murderer of thirteen, and the betrayer of his best friends. All passerby only knew of a grungy black stray, that seemed quite determined to go to an unknown place.

Sirius had a rough journey; Swimming through rivers, hiking his way through numerous valleys, and getting lost too many times to count. Hogwarts was meant for wizards, people were intended to take a train or apparate close by, not walk there. But he was known as a lunatic in society, so it wasn't like he could jump on the Hogwarts Express, and he couldn't risk his magic being tracked by apparating.

But it was worth the trip. Sirius knew that his godson was here. He had been watching Harry while the boy was in Diagon Alley, and when Snape had ran outside with Harry unconscious in his arms, blood dripping from his lips. And Sirius knew that when Snivellus had apparated away, the man went to Hogwarts. Or at least, he hoped. If Snape was a Death Eater who was going to kill Harry, then he would march up to Dumbledore and scream at the old coot for allowing the Greasy Git near his godson.

The mutt struggled up, panting heavily. The doors of Hogwarts only opened for a wizard, not a pet. It would look mighty suspicious if they allowed a mangy dog entrance, and someone would quickly figure out he was an animagus.

Sirius sat upright, trying to look adorable, and waited, hoping that someone would take pity on him and let him inside.

* * *

Harry was brought to by urgent voices, tinged with a taste of fear. 

"You're sure that he was coughing up blood, Severus?" Dumbledore's voice, though still as soothing as ever, was laced with panic.

"Of course I am, Albus. It's not something that you mistake easily." The snarky reply was undoubtedly Snape, though Harry's mind must of imagined the worry interwoven in his voice.

Harry knew it was terribly rude to eavesdrop, and made a sleepy "ugh", trying to announce that he was awake. Harry also tried to sit up, but his body didn't want to work for him.

Dumbledore must of heard his proclamation, since the headmaster was now in Harry's line of vision, bereft of the ever-present twinkles in the old man's glassy blue eyes. "Harry!" The cheerfulness was hollow sounding. "Nice to see you awake, my boy! Professor Snape had told me that you weren't feeling well." Well, that was the understatement of the year.

"Yeah, Headmaster." Harry couldn't really say anything else. What was he supposed to say? I think I'm dying? That was a bit melodramatic, even for Harry's tastes.

Though his reply seemed okay for Harry, Snape obviously disagreed, if the sneer was anything to go by. "Really, Potter. You coughed out blood, and the best you can say is 'Yeah, Headmaster.' Explain your symptoms immediately, so Madame Pomfrey can heal you and we all can go back to our lives."

Glaring a bit at Snape, Harry grumbled out his symptoms. "Well… My lungs have been hurting a lot- kinda felt like they were burning, I guess, but I've never lit my chest on fire so it's really just a guess- and it's been hard to breath at times. My arms ache a lot, and I sometimes go in these kinds of fits when they pulse and shake like mad, and for the past few days my throat's been sore, and when I touch it I get bruises… Oh, and I've had terrible nightmares… And before Snape took me here, I had a fever- and of course, was coughing up blood. That's all, really."

Both faces paled at the explanation. Snape quickly recovered a few seconds later and grounded out- "How long?"

Harry contemplated that for a few moments. "About a week and a half, I guess. When it started, it wasn't as bad…"

Dumbledore and Snape both searched through their memories for a sickness that fit. "It sounds somewhat like Belladonna Syndrome, but it's improbable that you contracted that, Potter… Perhaps a poison of some type?"

Dumbledore shook his head at the thought. "There is no way that Harry was poisoned at his relatives, Severus. He is safe from wizards there."

Harry couldn't see how, it wasn't like Vernon was going to stand up to wizards trying to harm Harry-hell, he would probably help them- but he didn't bother to ask.

Snape directed his questioning at Harry. "Potter. Have you recently drank or eaten an unknown substance?"

"No, sir." Harry answered, deciding that saying '_I'm not retarded, Snape, unlike you' _wasn't the smartest thing to say to a guy who was trying to heal you.

Snape frowned. "Have you been bitten by anything possible venomous, then?"

Harry shook his head. He hadn't been attacked by an animal since last- Ohhh… wait. Shit. "Wait, I was bitten by the Basilisk last year, but Fawkes healed it…"

This was met with stunned shock.

"A… Basilisk… bit you?" Snape seemed to choke out the words. "And you're still alive?!"

Harry nodded. "Fawkes healed me with his tears."

It didn't seem to relieve Snape's surprise, (or was it horror?), if the stunned expression on his face had anything to do with it. Snape, not lifting his stare from Harry, called out, "Poppy!"

The bustling nurse had come out of her office at the call without delay, suggesting that she was waiting for it anyway. "What has Mr. Potter managed to get himself into this time, Severus?" She asked the man, while bending over Harry to check his temperature with a hand on his forehead.

"We're not sure yet, Poppy." He admitted, then retold her the symptoms that Harry was suffering. "Could you check Potter's system for traces of poison?"

The matron nodded, and whipped out her wand, doing a complicated looking charm over Harry. A green glow began to seep out of him, and a gasp of dismay escaped her. "The… tests show positive…"

Dumbledore seemed to sag at the words, his eyes depressed and dull. "What type of poison?" The words were reluctant, as he already knew.

The woman was struggling to stay indifferent, but even so her words were dampened with pain. "Strong venom from an animal, Albus. It's most likely a type of snake… the poison has spread through his veins already extensively…"

Harry's mind stopped at the words. The only thing that passed through the haze was the sentiment of implied death from liquid damnation.

"It was supposed to be healed." The silence was cut through by Dumbledore's forlorn whisper.

The woman shook her head in distress. "It's most likely that the residue of the poison remained near the bite. For some reason, it started to spread to the cells in his skin, causing the trembling of his arms. The cells caused more venom to form, which then seeped into his blood stream, spreading to lungs and throat. The pressure on his body resulted in fever and internal bleeding, and that's why when Mr. Potter coughed too much he spat up blood…"

Harry only asked, "Am I going to die?"

Snape snarled at the boy. "Don't be a drama queen, Potter! I will compose a cure." He glared at Harry, as daring him to die. "There is precious few writings on Basilisks, and no one has invented a cure, but that is simply because most people die a few seconds after the venom in injected in their body, and Potion Masters don't have enough time to test out new potions. But since you, once again, are an exception to the rules, I'll have time to make a cure."

Dumbledore gave Harry a small smile, seeing that Harry was far from reassured. "If anyone can find a cure, Professor Snape would be the one."

The room was silent once more, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

Snape was mentally going through ingredients for the potion.

Poppy was trying to figure out long they would have until… the poison killed the poor boy.

Albus was simply putting all his faith in Severus. He would not allow himself think of the alternative if Snape couldn't find the cure.

Harry didn't know what to think. Even if Snape could find the remedy, it wasn't like Snape was going to lose any sleep over him dying, so why would he waste him time finding a cure for Harry?

* * *

_Black newt eyes would react well with boiled_ _salamander blood, which would counteract the problems in the throat, but it only would mask the pain… _Severus headed out of the infirmary a few minutes later. Concocting potions in his head, Severus tried to avoid the few threads of concern for the brat that he felt. 

_Maybe this near death experience will stop Potter from rule-breaking any longer_, Snape mused. He concentrated on his negative feelings for the boy, not letting himself stop and think _what if he dies?!_

No. If that thought passed his mind, it would imply that he cared. Which he didn't.

So what if the boy's home life wasn't ideal, that he was ill, that he could possibly die? Why would that make Snape care? The boy was the same, arrogant and self-centered. But why did the boy's symptoms cause him to be frozen in fear and desperation?

Snape, so caught up in his inner conflict, didn't notice the large black shape he ran into.

Looking down at the mutt, He snarled. Why was a stray in Hogwarts? The dog seemed to snarl back, it's fangs bared and eyes narrowed.

"Oh! Severus!" Minerva McGonagall smile at the glare shot her way, and strolled over to Snape. "I see you've met this charming fellow." She said to the dog, snickering at the dog's growl.

"Is this flea bag yours, Minerva?" Snape hadn't pictured Minerva as a dog person- the woman's animagus form was a cat for god's sake!

McGonagall shook her head no. "I found him outside, the poor thing. He seemed so hungry and cold, I just had to bring him in." She frowned in thought. "Why are you here anyway? Didn't Albus send you to watch Harry?"

"Potter has been ill, Minerva, and has been hiding it from me." Snape was still sour at the thought that a thirteen year old boy could hide a life threatening sickness from him, a trained spy.

"Oh, no!" She gasped, paling at the thought of one of her Gryffindors being sick. "Will he be okay?"

Snape didn't know how to phrase _'he's going to die unless I find a cure'_ without making Minerva panic, and so he answered, "Most likely."

McGonagall nodded her head, and mussed up the dog's fur, trying to alleviate her fears. "I see." She said, even though she really didn't.

Snape sneered at the woman's obvious concern, _even though it wasn't unwarranted_, he thought grudgingly.

"Well, if that is all." Snape said, already turning to leave. Minerva waved her hand in dismissal, not having anything else to say. "Good-bye, Minerva." And Snape left the woman and dog, both worried for Harry's safety, and went to his dungeons.

Walking down the damp hallway of the dungeons, Snape made his way to his quarters, hidden behind a painting of a bloodthirsty black wolf. Saying the password _'essence of murtlog'_ Snape entered his home.

His rooms were small, but it wasn't like he needed them bigger. His den was fitted with dark green carpet and wooden paneling on the walls. On the south side of the room were numerous bookcases, filled to the brim with rare texts and ancient manuscripts. In the middle of the room was a small black couch, which was flanked with a coffee table and a small cabinet. The door next to the entrance led to his bedroom, and a modest sized bathroom. All in all, it was his sanctuary.

Taking out a few decent sized books from the shelves, Snape spread the materials out on the coffee table. He was going to save Potter, dammit, and that meant he would have to do some research. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

AN: I'm going to add Snape as the second character for the story... It'll develop into a close teacher/student relationship, kinda like Lupin and Harry... 

Review please!


	6. Waiting For A Cure

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Kay? So don't sic your lawyer friends on me!

Thanks to the reviewers! Reading reviews makes me happy! )

* * *

Hermione Granger was usually in control of her emotions. She liked to look at life as though just observing it for research. But when she opened the plain envelope containing the Hogwarts seal, expecting the supply list, she couldn't help but cry out at the news contained there. "Oh, _Harry!_"

Ron Weasley was a laidback guy. He didn't freak out about stuff very often (well, if it didn't have to do with spiders). If he failed a test, no problem, He would just copy off Hermione the next few essays to bring up his grade. But when his eyes fell upon the notice contained in his Hogwarts letter, he couldn't help but whisper under his breath. "Bloody hell. _Harry._"

_To Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley,_

_Your friend Mr. Potter has been suffering from the remains of Basilisk poison in his body. His body is riddled with fever, pain of the arms and lungs, trouble breathing, and other symptoms. It is a quite serious illness, and no cure is yet found._

_Even though you are not family, we entrust this information to you by Mr. Potter's request. We hope that this will not be divulged to the press. Visitors for Mr. Potter can find him at the Hogwarts Infirmary._

_With Best Wishes,_

_Madame Pomfrey_.

* * *

Severus bit his lip in concentration, scratching down his latest theory about the venom's cure. Pulling out another book, Snape scanned the lines. 

_Basilisk poison is one of the most unique venoms in the world. The poison spreads almost immediately, and kills by melting the lungs, and even after death, spreads throughout the body and burns organs. There is a myth that hatchlings drink the mother's own venom to become immune to their own._

Severus scratched down a note on the myth, almost certain that it would come in handy. Flipping through a different journal, Snape didn't notice the door opening until the visitor spoke.

"Any progress?" Severus turned to face the headmaster, noticing that the old man's robes were not bright and bubbly like usual, and instead they were a dark green color.

"Some." Snape answered. "I have a few ideas on how to counteract the venom, but I still have to find the right composition and whether or not dark magic will be needed."

Albus smiled sadly. "Need any help?"

Shocked, Snape stuttered, "W-what?" The Headmaster was willing to use _dark _magic?! "Albus, you don't need to… I know how you feel about casting dark magic."

The old man sighed. "What kind of man would I be, if I don't help Harry simply because I'm afraid of tainting my soul?"

Snape nodded his head, still shocked at the turn of events. Dumbledore sat by Snape and looked over the research. "Hmm…" Albus picked up a few heavy tomes and flipped through them. "You really are trying, aren't you?"

Snape scoffed. "What kind of man would _I _be, not doing all I could for a boy I could save simply because old grudges?"

Albus glanced at Snape. "Oh? Have you put your hate for James behind you?"

Snape didn't say anything at first, but after a moment, he replied. "I noticed that the boy and James Potter aren't as alike as I thought…" He flipped through a book absent mindedly. "If Potter had gone through the symptoms the boy did, I'd say that he'd demand the best doctors available, and spend his days complaining and dwelling in self pity…"

Snape fiddled with a strand of his greasy black hair. "The boy hasn't asked for help at all. Though still a annoying characteristic, being too proud to ask for help, he at least doesn't share it with his late father."

Albus was positively tinkling now. "It's also a trait he has in common with you." The seemingly-innocent comment brought forth a glare from Severus.

"It doesn't mean I'm going to _bond _with the brat, Albus." Snape picked up a potions journal and skimmed the contents. "Don't start having delusions about me adopting him, or another of your insane daydreams."

Albus simply gave him a knowing smile, and pulled out a quill from his robe. "Enough chit-chat, we have a cure to find!"

* * *

"Oh, dear. Your fever is up again…" The nurse fussed over Harry. Madame Pomfrey bustled through the ward, and into her office. She quickly came back with a bottle of fever relieving potion, handing it to Harry. 

Harry quickly gulped the sour tasting medicine down, but sighed in relief when his fever lessened. "Thanks."

She smiled. "It's no problem, dearie. I just hope you don't get another fever… Your body wouldn't be able to handle that amount of dosage!" She patted his head and doddered off into her office.

Harry frowned when she left. Was he going to die? Shifting into a more comfortable position on the white cot, Harry mused this turn of events.

Unless Snape could find a cure, it seemed that he was going to die. Harry wasn't sure if he should have been more upset at that possibility than he was. He had a really terrible life thus far, and finally getting rest sounded good to him. It wasn't like he was going to kill himself if he didn't die, he'd rather be alive than dead, but it didn't really seem that horrendous. He just accepted it.

Harry sighed, bored. What was he supposed to do? Just lie there? _Snape could of at least brought me my trunk_, Harry complained mentally. _I wonder if Snape just left all my stuff in the Leaky Cauldron… _

"BARK!"

A huge dog rushed into Harry's sight, and jumped on top of the boy. Harry gaped, was this the same dog he ran into after he left Privet Drive? "What are you doing here, buddy?" Harry asked the mutt.

The dog gave a roughish doggy grin, and seemed to _wink?_ Harry stared, slack-jawed. "You're a really smart dog, aren't you?" Harry ran his finger through the stray's thick coat. "I wonder how you found me…" Harry smiled when the dog butted it's nose against the palm of his hand.

At least he wasn't bored anymore. "You ought to have a name, if your going to be hanging with me." The dog let out a bark of agreement. "Kay… So.. How about Sparky?"

The dog let out a sneeze of 'no'. "No Sparky? How about Oreo?" The mutt gave Harry a doggy-glare. "Huh. You're picky. Thunder?" A growl this time. "Sheesh. Fine then. Ashes?" The dog stayed silent.

"Is that okay?" Harry asked, perplexed by the dog's silence. It gave him a look that clearly said 'well if that's the best you can do…'

"Kay! Ashes, then!" Harry was oddly cheerful for a kid that had a possibly fatal disease. "I wonder if Dumbledore would let me keep you in the dorm…" Harry asked, not feeling odd at all about speaking to a dog.

"Why is there a dog in here?" Madame Pomfrey questioned when she walked into the room.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Just a stray that attached itself to me. I named him Ashes!"

The nurse glanced at the boy and his dog. Well, it was fine with her if it cheered the poor dear up. She knew it must be hard to have a fatal illness. "Just make sure he doesn't get the whole place dirty…" She then switched train of thought. "Oh! What would you like to eat, dear?"

"Um…" He wasn't really that hungry, but he knew she wouldn't get off his case if he didn't eat. "A small salad…"

"I'll call a house elf, then." She snapped her fingers and called, "Suna!"

A female house elf popped into the ward. "Yes, Mistress Heal?" Harry didn't know that Hogwarts had house elves, but he wasn't really that interested, so he didn't bother to make a remark on it.

"Yes, get a small salad for the boy, and a steak for the dog. Oh, and a glass and bowl of water." Poppy requested.

"Yes, Mistress. Suna will be doing that." She popped away, and came back a few minutes later with the food.

Harry took his, thanked her, and inspected his food. It looked pretty good, and his appetite increased. Digging in, he missed the smile from Poppy.

But he could hardly miss the stomping of feet in the ward, and looked up from his lunch. "Huh?"

"HARRY!" A bush of brown hair attacked him, pushing him back. He glanced down at Hermione, her arms attached to him. He then saw Ron awkwardly standing near the bed, debating whether or not it would be all right to hug Harry, or if it was a girl thing.

Hermione got up after a few moments, and he was saddened to see tears in her eyes. "Harry, we heard about your sickness…" Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. Poppy excused herself, knowing a serious and private conversation when she saw it.

"It's no big deal, guys." Harry laughed nervously when he saw their stares of disbelief.

"You might bloody _die_, and it's no big deal?" Ron shouted. "It's a big deal, mate! Your important to us!"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, Harry. We love you, you know that, right?" Harry looked down at his hands, not sure how to respond.

"Yeah… I know that…" He finally said.

Both of Harry's friends sat next to him on the bed. "So what's with the dog?" Ron finally asked, pointedly staring at Ashes, who was sitting on the floor.

"Just a stray that decided to adopt me." Harry answered. "His name is Ashes."

"You know that dogs aren't allowed, Harry." Hermione scolded. "I read about it in '_Hogwarts, A History'_. It's really interesting, seems that the founders didn't make it law, but since Salazar owned a dog, it kinda became a precedent after he left not to own one…" She trailed off when she realized neither of the boys were paying attention to her. "Oh. Well. They aren't allowed."

Harry replied, "I know they aren't, Hermione. Maybe Dumbledore will let me keep him for protection or something, against Black…" The dog's ears seemed to perk-up at the mention of the convicts name, Harry noticed. "But if he doesn't, I bet that Ashes could stay with Hag-" He broke off suddenly.

Pain.

His lungs started burning again, and Harry couldn't draw in a breath. The stinging brought tears to his eyes, alerting his friends that something was amiss.

"Harry?" Ron asked.

Breathing a staggered breath, he couldn't help but cough, jolting blood up his throat, and into his mouth.

Mouth filling with blood, darkness encroached his vision. He could see Hermione and Ron running for Poppy, but his mind didn't process the fact. All he could feel was the pain.

White-Hot-Liquid-Pain.

Surrendering to the approaching oblivion, he knew the last thing he would see for a while was Poppy's pale face leaning over him.

* * *

AN: I guess this was kinda a filler, except the ending... oh wells. I hope you still like it...

I like the name Ashes... but do you think it fits?

Review please!


	7. Basilisk Venom

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. So there.

Thanks to the reviewers! Amazing, 95!

* * *

"ALBUS! SEVERUS!"

A voice screamed from Snape's fireplace, made urgent by the frantic worry cracking in the woman's voice. Madame's Pomfrey's head stuck out of the fireplace in a floo call, her face pale and distraught.

Albus quickly looked up from the book he was previously emerged in. "What's wrong, Poppy?"

"Mr. Potter has fallen unconscious. His heart rate is raising, and his breath is becoming more shallow and feverish. I cannot use any more potions on him for fear of them having an averse affect on him." She shook her head in fear. "I fear he might not even make it through the night at this rate…"

Albus looked truly heartbroken at the thought of Harry dying, and nodded his head. "We… will find something… We have to at least slow the poison down…"

"Albus… the myth…" Snape motioned to a note on the possible immunity to Basilisk poison. "If we dose him with basilisk poison mixed with a few select herbs, it may make him immune… It's risky, but it may save the boy."

Poppy shook her head. "Where would you get basilisk poison, Severus? It's brutally expensive for just a small amount."

Dumbledore wistfully smiled. "I believe the school has recently hosted a basilisk. The poison most likely isn't gone from the corpse's fangs."

"How would we get into the Chamber, Albus? We would need a parselmouth to open the door of the chamber." Snape asked, perplexed by the man's suggestion.

Albus held up a few notes he had written down. "Luckily, the few known facts about parselmouth has been recorded. It's quite nice, the most important phrases are easily duplicated. Two strong 'hisses' should do it." Albus turned to Poppy. "Is Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger still in the infirmary?"

"Yes, they are. I think both are having a breakdown though…" She said, remembering the loud sobs she had left when she had told them about the possible chance of him dying in the night.

"Get them both anyway. I'm sure they wouldn't be opposed to leading us to the Chamber."

"Yes, Albus." She went back into the floo, and a few moments later, returned with two teenagers in tow.

"Headmaster!?" Hermione broke down in tears. "Is it true? Is Harry going to die?" The girl was clutching on Ron's hand tightly, face pale and streaked with tears.

Ron didn't look much better. His usually bright blue eyes were filled with pain, and he had a bitter resigned look on his face. "Is that why you got Madame Pomfrey to get us?" He asked. "To tell us Harry's going to-" He broke off suddenly, choking back tears. "-die?"

"We have a way to save him."

The teenagers' heads shot up at the headmaster's words, and hope was evident in both of their faces.

"I believe you know the way to the Chamber of Secrets?" Ron nodded at the question. "We need you to lead us there."

Ron snarled. "How is taking a visit to the Chamber going to help? You need to make a potion or cast a spell, not visit the freakin' chamber!"

"Idiot." Snape glared at the little fool. "We need basilisk poison for the potion I'm making to save Potter."

"YOU'RE GIVING HARRY MORE POISON?! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Ron exploded at Snape, releasing the stress from the past day. "WAIT, I KNOW! YOU WANT HARRY DEAD, DON'T YOU! YOU GREASY BASTARD!" Ron let go of Hermione's hand and stomped up in front of Snape. "I'M GOING TO KI-"

Snape waved his wand and cast a silencing charm on the brat. Really, you try to help and you get yelled at. Merlin.

Hermione, though, had the total opposite reaction. Her face light up in a bright smile and she exclaimed with a delighted air, "Oh! You're going to make him immune to the venom!"

Wow. All the adults blinked in shock. She really caught on fast.

"Correct." Snape affirmed, and stared at Ron menacingly. "Now that the reason is clear, I believe you will have no qualms on showing us to the entrance."

Ron opened his mouth to say 'fine', but the silencing charm prevented him from answering. He glared angrily at Snape, demanding with his eyes for it to be taken off of him.

Snape smirked at the boy's obvious annoyance. "There's no need for you to be talking. Just lead us there."

Ron's face slowly grew red with anger. Hermione patted Ron's shoulder, and whispered to him, "Ron, It's for Harry. You can deal with Snape for Harry, just take them to the entrance."

Ron smiled at Hermione, and then glared back at Snape and tightly nodded. Hermione looked around and asked Snape, "Where's the exit, sir?"

Snape motioned to a narrow wooden door, and Snape and Dumbledore followed the teenagers to the 3rd floor girl's bathroom.

* * *

The chamber was reeking with dark magic, Severus observed. It also smelled quite repulsive. _I guess leaving a giant corpse there to rot will do that. _

Severus watched the Headmaster inspect the corpse from where he stood. He fingered the glass vials in his robe pocket. What if the venom had dried up?

If the venom was gone… _The boy would die. _Severus felt a cold dread curling in his stomach at the thought. _No matter how annoying the boy is, I don't wish him death. And such a painful death at that!_

The poison would slowly melt his organs, and it would be probable that it would awake him. He would stay conscious until his lungs fully melt down, and he would not die for another few minutes, but in those few minutes, his heart would start decomposing right then. The pain of that could even wake him during his last moments.

If there was no venom left over… the body wouldn't even be fit to look at. Severus didn't even want to imagine it. They couldn't even give him a proper funeral. The venom would spread to the top of his skin, and it would be too dangerous to touch the corpse and prepare it for burial.

Snape watched the headmaster examine the snake's mouth, poking his wand at various teeth, trying to figure out where the venom was stored.

Severus walked over to Albus, ignoring the children standing next to him. "Any luck?"

Albus looked over at him, and smiled. "I believe that it's stored in those sacs near the throat, see?"

Severus peered in the monsters mouth, and noticed the two dark blue patches of skin near the throat, pulsing ominously, as if alive.

"Hmm." He pulled out his wand, and whispered a spell to check. "It is." He took out a few vials, and started the charm to extract the damning cure from the basilisks' dead shell.

* * *

Sirius listened to his godson's heartbeat as he lay on Harry in dog form. 

Pitter-Patter. Patter….

Sirius's breath caught.

Pitter.

Harry's heartbeat was ill regular and he had broken into a cold sweat. Sirius didn't know what he could do, except pray that he got better.

What was happening anyway? When Poppy told Harry's friends that Harry could- it was hard to even think of the word- _die, _she mentioned something about venom.

Had Harry been attacked by a magical creature? Sirius's heart clenched at the thought of having his godson die before Sirius even got to know him. Of course, Harry wouldn't get to know him until he felt he could reveal himself to him without Harry calling aurors within seconds, but still.

"Poppy?" A voice called from the across the infirmary, near Poppy's office.

The voice froze Sirius's thoughts in seconds.

"Oh, Hello, Remus!" Poppy's voice was welcoming, but not surprised.

Sirius first impulse was to transform back and launch himself at his sorely missed friend, but he quickly squashed it. Right now Remus thought he was a murdering lunatic.

Sirius jumped off of Harry and crawled under the bed. If they came over, Remus would recognize Sirius, even if he was in dog form. Why was Remus here anyway?

"Poppy, Where's Albus? I went to his office looking for him, but he wasn't there." Sirius grinned when he realized he still could hear them. Great thing he had good hearing in his dog form.

"Well…" She seemed to be debating on whether or not to tell him. "It's a private matter to the Headmaster… He shouldn't be free for a couple of hours."

Remus coughed. "He was supposed to show me to my rooms, Poppy." _Remus is staying here? _Sirius cursed. How was he supposed to avoid Remus while he stayed here with Harry? There was no way Sirius was leaving his godson when he was this sick!

"Oh, dear…" Poppy sighed. "I guess I could show you there… I have a patient, but he ought to be fine for a half an hour."

_WHAT?! Poppy is going to leave Harry alone?! What if his fever grows worse?! How dare she! _Sirius fumed.

Footsteps signaled their departure, and Sirius squirmed out from his hiding place. Sirius shook himself, trying to scatter off the pieces of dust that stuck to his coat, and then he jumped back on Harry's bed. It seemed that it was up to him to watch his godson, and he would not fail at that task.

* * *

_It was dark. _

_Very Dark. _

_Harry was alone in the dark place. It kinda reminded him of the days in his cupboard. _

_Well… Harry was mostly alone. _

_Snakes. Curling up his legs, crawling up his arms. Whispering to him in snake-speak._

_'It's your fault' they chanted. _

_Harry didn't have to ask what was his fault. He knew. The bodies in front of him clearly explained. _

_All his friends. All his enemies. Everyone. Dead. _

_The snakes crawled up his neck. 'Tell us, Human Boy, would you like to live?'_

_Harry battled with the natural human instinct to say 'yes.' It was his fault, wasn't it? Why should he stay alive? He deserved to die, didn't he?_

_Harry opened his mouth, and said-_

_"_My dear boy, Severus is making the potion as we speak."

_Harry heard a voice outside of the darkness. Who was speaking to him? He was a dirty murderer, right? Who was even left alive to speak, anyway? _

_'Stop hesitating, Human Boy. Tell us.' _

_Harry paused. More snakes were crawling around his legs, joining the others on asking if he wanted to live._

"I believe your friends would like to speak to you, Harry. I think I'll be taking my leave."

_Friends?! All of his friends were dead, weren't they? And was that the headmaster speaking? He was dead also, right? The snakes started to squeeze, and he felt an uncomfortable heat come from their scales._

_"_Harry, mate, get well soon, ok? I feel dumb talking to you when your sleeping, but I gotta tell you this. Me and Hermione… we care about you."

_Someone cared about him? But hadn't he killed them? The snakes were growing impatient. 'Do you wish to live?'_

_Harry sighed at the question. What was the point of living when his friends were dead? But were they really?_

"Don't die, mate."

_'Yes.' Harry answered. 'I want to live.'_

_The snakes disappeared, but leaving the heat. __Leaving him alone with blood and heat. _

_But he was strong. He would make it through. _

_For his friends… and for himself._

* * *

AN: In case you didn't the dream, It's pretty much Harry deciding for himself if he wanted to live, or just give up and die. His subconcious was the snakes... He's not cured yet, though. 

And for the people asking, THIS WILL NOT BE SLASH! I have no problem with slash fics (I like reading them, too) but i'm not going to write one... It probably won't have any romance, since Harry's barely thirteen, and i don't think he would like anyone in a romantic way yet.

Please Review!


	8. The Potion

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter...

* * *

Chop. Chop. Sizzle. 

Severus was emerged in the making of the potion, banishing any thoughts other than the process of cutting up flame leaves.

The potion was slowly bubbling in the glass cauldron, emitting bitter sweet fumes. The glass cauldron should purify the venom enough that it wouldn't be hazardous… well, it probably would. You really couldn't be sure when creating a new concoction.

Throwing in the now-sliced flame leaves, the potions master observed the potion. In theory, it should be ready for the venom after boiling for five minutes, and after adding the venom, it would have to be cooled down with a spell.

After waiting five minutes, Severus uncorked the vial filled with the poison, and gently poured it into the potion. After it dissolved, he took out his wand and incanted a cooling charm.

Pouring the potion into a large vial, he sighed when he realized this was it. The cure. Hopefully.

The potion was black liquid, with streaks of green and white pulsing through it. He grimaced at it, the whole think showed signs of a dark potion.

Making his way out of his private lab with potion in hand, he headed for the infirmary to tell Albus that the boy's cure was finished.

* * *

Ron watched his best friend's unconscious face, saw the pain that was etched into it. 

"Harry…" Ron wouldn't trust himself to say anymore, knowing that he would easily break down. Even if Dumbledore had said that Snape was making a cure, Ron couldn't believe that it would be that easy.

What if it had side-effects? Harry was going to drink poison, it was bound to do something bad to his body! Ron glanced at Hermione, who had fallen asleep on the hospital chair next to him. _Hermione probably will do ton of research on it. _He thought to himself. _She'll find something to help Harry. But how can I help? _

Ron felt totally useless right now. Everyone was doing something except him… Ron looked at Harry's creased brows, and noticed that he was mouthing something out.

Ron rushed over to Harry's bedside, worried over the cold sweat that he had broken into, and the silent plea that Harry was mouthing.

"Mate…" Ron didn't have an idea on what to do! "You… okay?"

_Real smart, Ron. _He mentally scolded himself. _Asking someone who's unconscious if they're okay. _

Ron, worried, felt Harry's forehead and quickly pulled it back. It was burning up! "MADAME POMFREY!" He yelled in a panic, forgetting that she wasn't there at the moment.

"Nnnhg…." Hermione's lazy yawn alerted Ron of her presence.

"MOINE!" He ran over to her and shook her repeatedly, trying to wake her. "WAKE UP!"

Hermione, startled awake, glared at the teenage boy wildly shaking her. "What is it, Ron?" She asked in a peeved voice.

"Harry! He's burning up!" He frantically yelled at her, and pulled her out of the chair and led her to Harry's bedside. She looked down at Harry in concern.

"Have you called for Madame Pomfrey?" She asked.

"YEAH! I'm not an idiot, you know!" Hermione glanced around the infirmary, wondering where the patron could be.

Seeing that the woman was out, Hermione frowned. Should she just leave Harry as is? Or maybe look for a fever reducing potion? But what if she overdosed him?

"'Moine…. Ron…."

The moan rose through the air, bringing the two teenagers' attention to their sick friend, who was speaking softly in his sleep.

They both kneeled next to his bedside, and clasped their hands to his, together. Giving him comfort during nightmares seemed to be the best that they could do right now.

* * *

_To Minister Fudge,_

_My dear man, making a law against werewolves seems a bit drastic, don't you think? I understand that you…._

Albus sighed at the letter he was writing to Fudge. Right now he was too distracted by Harry's situation to be corresponding with an idiot. He put down his quill and pushed away the letter.

Albus surveyed his desk for his lemon drops, and grabbed a few to calm himself down. Not many knew that Albus purposely ate sweets laced with calming draught, only Severus, who made them for Albus.

Albus drummed his fingers on the wooden desk, immersed in thought. Severus would finish the potion soon, and hopefully it would be a cure for Harry. If not... well, Albus tried to avoid thinking about it. He truly cared about Harry, and even if Harry was just a normal kid, he still would be heartbroken over his demise. But Harry wasn't normal, and the pain that would come from Harry dying wouldn't be the only consequence. The boy-who-lived would die... the child of the pro-

Severus burst into his office before he could finish his thoughts. The professor held up a glass vial filled to the brim with a dark black potion, and told Albus the news he wanted to hear. "The cure is done."

* * *

_It was hot._

_Everywhere was hot. _

_And bloody. Very bloody. _

"This potion should cure Harry…"

_And his body __**hurt**__. And he just wanted to __**give up**__. He wanted to __**surrender**_

"Are you sure the potion won't hurt him, Headmaster?"

_And he didn't care about those voices. He just felt the __**pain**__. And the __**darkness**_

_"_No, Ms. Granger. Harry will be fine… Yes, just tip his mouth open."

_And the snakes had come back, and they were curling upwards…_

"Now just use the spell to make him swallow, Severus…"

_And the blackness started to __**drip**_

_And **green** swelled with blackness. _

_And the snakes went **inside **of him._

"That should make him immune…"

_And a basilisk appeared. Her eyes red. Her mouth dripping with venom._

_He was going to die. This was it. _

_She came closer and closer…_

_And went inside of him._

_And he could feel a change._

_Power._

_And the poison swelled within his veins. _

_It wasn't unwelcome. It was **his.**_

_And the black washed out, and he _opened his eyes to white.

"Harry?"

Concerned faces leaned over him.

"What…?" Harry croaked out, confused on what was happening.

Smiles of relied broke out amongst his friends and Dumbledore, and even Snape looked glad, even if his mouth stayed down turned.

And Dumbledore gave Harry a glass of water, grinning the whole time. "You've become immune to the venom in your body. You'll be alright now."

"Oh." A small smile curled his lips, and he took a sip of the water. Harry's smile widened when he realized he wasn't feeling any pain at- the smile abruptly vanished, alerting Dumbledore.

"What's wrong, my boy?"

His eyes… they felt _wrong_. He felt magic swirling inside them, trying to break free. "Um…." Harry didn't know what to say. What if it was a terrible side effect that was going to kill him, and he had to stay in the infirmary longer? "I'm fine, Headmaster…"

Harry, for a moment, was unsure if hiding something from everyone was a wise thing to do.

But he forgot the regret when he saw that Dumbledore's eyes gained back their twinkles, and his friends faces lost their worry, and he spotted Ashes on the other side of the bed and saw that even the _dog_ was beaming. Why would he needlessly worry his friends with a complaint of his eyes feeling odd?

* * *

Harry stayed in the infirmary for the next few days, to make sure 'that there were no repercussions'. He couldn't care less about repercussions, because the days were long and boring. He just wanted to get out. 

His friends had to return home a day after he regained consciousness, and now the only company he had was Ashes and Madame Pomfrey. At six on the third day, Madame Pomfrey deemed him fit enough to leave, and Harry wasted no time rushing out of the infirmary. He paused a few moments later. Where was he supposed to go? Back to the Dursleys? He shuddered at the thought.

"Potter… What are you doing out of the infirmary?"

Harry jumped at the professor's voice. Merlin, did Snape take classes on how to sneak up on someone? Harry turned to Snape and answered the man.

"Poppy said it was alright to go." Harry answered.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you just standing here, Potter?"

Harry gave the man a tired glare and replied, "I'm not sure where I should go. Am I supposed to stay at Hogwarts for the rest of the summer?"

"Term starts in a week, so Albus is going to let you stay." He glanced at Ashes. "Why do you have that mangy mutt with you anyway? The castle doesn't need two _canines_ sullying it's hallways."

"It's a stray that I found… Dumbledore said I could keep him." Dumbledore indeed had said it was okay when Harry asked him, happy that he could do something for the boy who had gone through such a horrific illness. "And what do you mean by 'two'?"

Snape smirked at the boy's question, but didn't answer, and instead commanded him to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

Harry fell down on his bed in the dorm, sighing in happiness at the comfortable mattress and clean sheets. The cot in the infirmary felt like a couple of rocks compared to the heaven he was in now. Harry grinned at Ashes, who had joined him on worshipping the bed by rolling around in it. 

Harry laid still after a moment, and pondered the weird sensation in his eyes. They were kinda… well, bubbling with magic. Was it an aftereffect of the poison? Harry sighed. He hoped that it would go away soon, and let him have peace, and not worry about what was wrong with his body.

He cuddled into his pillow, and decided that he deserved a long nap to get his mind off of things. Ashes seemed to agree, seeing that the dog was already asleep.

Harry smiled at the dog's snores, and drifted off quickly after.

* * *

AN: This is not the end of the whole venom problem... I like making Harry suffer, so don't worry, he won't be in la-de-da land anytime soon! 


	9. Curiosity

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I know, shocking, isn't it?

Thanks to the reviewers!

* * *

Harry frowned at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes hadn't stopped bothering him, in fact they had gotten worse.

And he could swear they looked different too. They were still emerald green… but… Harry grunted in frustration. He couldn't place the change, but something was not right.

_Should I tell someone? Maybe I'm just delusional…_ Harry thought to himself. _But really, it could be a side effect… I can't believe they dosed me with venom!_

Harry had asked Dumbledore the day before what was in the cure. He was absolutely shocked when the Headmaster admitted to giving him Basilisk poison!

Deciding to think on this later, Harry changed from his pajamas to a pair of blue jeans and large black polo shirt. Harry cursed when he realized that he had most likely already missed breakfast. "Bloody hell…" He was _hungry!_

Ashes, lying on the bed, scolded Harry for his language with a loud bark. Harry glared at the dog in response. "Well, excuse me for being hungry, Ashes. Some people mind if they miss breakfast."

Ashes huffed in response, ignoring Harry in favor of curling up and taking a nap. Bored, Harry flopped next to Ashes, and tried to ignore his stomach by pondering his eyes.

_It's probably nothing… But… _Harry couldn't help but shiver when he remembered the pain from the diesease. If he had told something about that, he could of avoided that whole ordeal. But who would he trust with this? If he told Dumbledore or Pomfrey, he would be sent back to the infirmary immediately. If he told Ron or Hermione, they would panic and tell Dumbledore.

Who doesn't care enough to inform Dumbledore? Who would simply fix the problem with out making a fuss?

_Snape. _The Potions Master's name popped into his head.

Harry looked down at his hands. Would Snape really help him, or would he just dismiss his worries as childish complaints? Or maybe his loyalty to Dumbledore would make him tell the Headmaster of the supposed side-effect?

_Maybe it would be best if Snape is a last resort_. Harry decided. _I'll do some research on my own first. And maybe it will go away anyway…_

Giving up the hope that he would be getting breakfast, Harry left the room to go to the library

* * *

"Jeezes…" The teenage boy groaned, looking at the few books he had found. "These look… long." 

Harry had searched the shelves thoroughly, but had only found three hard-back books that could possibly help him. He sat down at a wooden library table and slammed the books down, and picked one of them from the pile.

Opening the dark black book entitled '_Snakes: From Rattlesnakes to Basilisks' _Harry skimmed to the index.

Seeing that there were four or five pages on Basilisks, he flipped to that section and began to read.

**Basilisk: A Mythical Creature or A Truly Alive Beast?**

_Many snake experts express their doubts when dealing with the topic of the mythical beast, even though the extensive writing about the snake, written by Salazar Slytherin himself. The series of documents are currently in possession of the Malfoy family. The family keeps the documents quite secret, so many have to work off speculation when writing of Basilisks. _

_It is said that Basilisks kill with a single look into their eyes, or a single drop of venom in your veins. It is speculated that Basilisks gain the magic for their eyes from their mother's venom, which goes into a unique sac underneath their eyelids and develops into their deadly visions._

_Few can say that they own basilisk venom, and fewer believe them. A case of one man who allegedly got his hands on the toxin was published in the Daily Prophet. Andrew Zim, a middle aged wizard, had ingested the venom as an experiment. His family knew of it, and notified the press, so the man's story would be known. It seems that Andrew's magic became wild and unpredictable, harming others when he was angry. Depressed, he committed suicide before more data could be acquired. _

Grimacing at the passage, Harry quickly closed the book. That was… informative. Drumming his fingers on the table, Harry thought back to the reading.

_It said that basilisks get powers from the mum's poison. Merlin. Am I going to be able to kill people with a look? _He shuddered at the thought. _But I don't think I would… Cause it said they had those sac-things. The guy hadn't killed people… just harm them with his magic…_

That wasn't much better, really.

Harry was about to pull out another book when a voice from behind made him freeze.

"A Potter studying. What an unexpected sight."

* * *

Severus sneered at the teenager's wince when he heard the man's voice. It wasn't like he was going to attack the boy! 

"What, professor?"

The tone was sullen, and filled with annoyance. Snape had to bite back a caustic response. He was here for a purpose, no need to get the boy into a blind rage.

Even if he had healed Potter, his curiosity concerning his home life had not been abated. Severus would get his answers from the boy, no matter what.

"Turn around when I talk to you, Potter." The brat grudgingly turned to him, but kept his gaze on the floor.

Now, how would he phrase his questions… He had to maneuver the boy into telling him the truth, but how would that work out? He wasn't foolish enough to believe that Potter would admit to the abuse straight out, and it wasn't like he even trusted Severus… Could he catch the boy telling a lie and pressure him into admitting the truth?

On the other hand, the best he could probably get from that would be a '_my relatives don't like me' _and Snape needed the specifics in order to get the boy removed from his relatives. It wasn't like Dumbledore would refuse to move his Golden Boy, but the Ministry would have to be informed, and if there wasn't explicit details on to why, Fudge could possibly forbid the whole thing, since the Dursleys' were the boy's legal guardians.

Deciding that just standing here, saying nothing, wouldn't get him anywhere, Snape quickly told Potter, "Headmaster Dumbledore and I have a question relating to the venom developing."

Potter eyes rose from their staring match with the floor at Dumbledore's name. Curious, he asked, "What's the question?"

Snape gave the boy his best '_tell the truth or die_' stare, and questioned, "Why didn't your _loving_ family notify us of the signs of your sickness? You spent all summer with them. Surely they would of noticed you having painful fits and shaking all the time." _There. Let's see how he answers this._

Cringing, Potter paused before answering. "Um… I told them it was nothing, just a cold…" He gave a sheepish smile. "I didn't want to worry them…"

"Even if they were idiotic enough to believe that it was merely a cold, I had gotten a different impression of your relationship with them by your numerous attempts to stay for the summer, Potter." Snape inwardly snickered when the boy's smiles was quickly wiped away. "And you never return to them for holidays… I think you wouldn't care at all if they started to worry. Stop lying, you ungrateful moron."

"Why would I lie about that?" Potter had the temerity to laugh! It was a nervous, fake laugh, but it was still was quite unwelcome in Snape's eyes!

"Pott-" Directing his best glare, Snape started to demand a truthful explanation when the books on the table caught his eye. "Why are you researching Basilisks?" It was such an odd concept, Potter reading something not required for school, that he had to ask.

"J-just out of curiosity." The stutter revealed the lie easily, making Severus even more intrigued. Why would he avoid answering truthfully to why he was reading a book?

"Then, what does the addition of Basilisk Venom do to a relatively normal potion?" Severus was curious on if the Boy-Wonder could learn anything without Granger there to walk him through it.

"I dunno." Apparently not then. The child gave him a annoyed look, and then mumbled, "Is there anything else you wanted, Snape?"

Instead of replying, he reached out for one of the books and flipped through it. "Interesting choice, Potter." Why was the boy researching the affects of toxins? A possibility flew into his mind in an instant.

"Were there complications with the cure? Is that why you're researching this?" He forced himself to say it in a calm voice, and not let the growing anger seep through. Potter peeked up at him, and gave an obvious lie.

"No. Course not…." He didn't meet Severus's eyes though, which was good luck on his part, Snape didn't think he could stop himself from using Legilimency from discerning the truth from Potter's bold-faced lie.

"You fooli-" Severus started, intending to demand the truth, when a most abhorred voice called out from the library entrance.

"Severus, good day!" Lupin, clothed in threadbare robes, strolled up to him. And the dirty animal dared to use his first name, as if they were friends!

"It's Professor Snape to you, Lupin!" He snarled at the werewolf, trying to hide the instinctual fear blossoming in his chest. The beast just gave a sad smile, and apologized.

"And who is-" Lupin turned to Potter and ceased talking, suddenly paling. "Harry?"

Potter, confused, looked up at the monster, and questioned, "Who are you?"

Snape could see where this was going, and before Lupin could bear his heart out to the boy and tell thousands of glorifying stories of his days with James Potter, Snape snapped, "What do you want, Lupin?"

Wrenching his eyes off Potter, the werewolf turned to Snape. "All I needed was confirmation that my, erm, request will be ready in time." So he wanted to make sure that Snape was actually going to brew the Wolfsbane Potion?

"It will be ready in time, Lupin." Snape snarled, perturbed that Lupin thought that he was low enough to forget about it or even withhold it. "Potter, you have detention for lying to me numerous times. Tonight at eight."

He glided out of the library, ignoring the brat's splutters of protests and mentally swearing to get the full story of Potter's home life tonight.

* * *

A.N: Sorry for the delay! Hope you liked this chapter. 

Please Review!


	10. Burning

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

"Is he even allowed to give detentions during summer?" Harry muttered under his breath as he stomped off to Snape's office.

_And I don't like where his questioning was leading to. _Harry thought. _I think he might have a suspicion of… _Harry wasn't sure if his home life could really be classified as an abusive situation. It wasn't like he was being tortured… Just smacked around a bit. Sighing, he realized that others would probably classify it as abuse if they knew.

_Like Lupin. _Professor Lupin seemed angry on Harry's behalf when Snape gave him the detention, even though he didn't know Harry. The man probably despised any type of cruelty toward children…

_"Does Professor Snape give you a lot of trouble?" Lupin asked Harry when Snape left, looking down at the young boy with concern._

_Harry gave a shy smile at the man, and responded, "Sometimes, I guess." He frowned when his answer seemed to perturb the man._

_"Professor Snape can be a bit…" The man started, but didn't finish his statement. "Where are my manners? I'm Remus Lupin, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor."_

_The new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor? Harry stared up at him, sizing him up. He looked sick and weak, but it wasn't like he could be worse than Lockhart. "Harry Potter, sir." He introduced himself, even though it seemed that Lupin already knew who he was. _

_The man responded with a smile, and excused himself with a, "Until later, Mr. Potter." _

Harry knocked at Snape's office door, hoping that the man wouldn't answer so he could go back to the dorm.

His hopes were dashed when a 'Enter' was heard from inside.

Opening the wooden door, Harry was met with the sight of Snape's office; shelves of potions and ingredients lining the wall, a wooden desk with papers and books scattered on it, and Snape, the git who had gave Harry the detention in the first place.

"Sir?" He asked, since Snape did not do more than look up from a book when he entered.

"Potter. Sit." He pointed to an old wooden chair placed in front of his desk, and Harry quickly hurried to it.

Uncomfortable, Harry started to tap his foot up and down against the floor. Snape wasn't even paying attention to him! What kind of detention was this?

"Stop that." Snape ordered, and the teenage boy immediately stilled. After a long pause, Snape shut the book, and stared at the boy menacingly. "So, Potter."

Harry stopped himself from drawling '_So, Snape'. _"Yes, sir?"

The man smirked down at the boy, and seemed to take pleasure from his next statement. "The Truth."

Nerves bouncing, he stuttered out, " I-I don't know what you're talking about." He tried to look sincere. "Anyway, my personal life is no business of yours, Snape." Annoyance became to blossom at the end of his sentence as he realized that it _wasn't the man's business. _

Snape didn't react from the boy's declaration, and looked expectantly at the boy in silence.

Anger rising at the Professor's silence, he growled, "Anyway, just cause you're an paranoid old git doesn't mean you can assign me detention whenever you want."

Eyes flashing, Snape said in a deceptively calm voice, "Do you think that?" A twisted parody of a smile graced his lips. "You're just like your arrogant father, always passing judg-"

"Shut up about my dad!" Rage bubbled up, and he couldn't help but raise his voice. "YOU SLIMY BAS-"

_Burning_. His eyes were _BURNING. _

He broke off, suddenly scared. "Ah…" He tried to appear calm, but his eyes were _BURNING. _The pain blurred his vision and he looked down at the stone floor, hoping that he would be released soon.

"Is something wrong?" Snape asked, and Harry felt anger prickling his thoughts once more. He could just picture the man's condescending sneer at the 'little boy's temper tantrum'. The concern he thought he heard must have been imagined, he rationed.

"No." He gritted out, biting down on his tongue to suppress a whimper. The _burning _seemed to be flowing through his body, and he had to try not to cry. Seeing him in tears would probably make Snape's day!

"Very well. Potter, as your teacher, it is my job to…" The man's lecture didn't register in Harry's brain. Only the pain. The _burning. _And the anger. The irrational anger at the apathetic bastard sitting before him. He wanted the man to _burn. _

_The snakes twisted around his arms. _The man must _burn. _

"AH!" Snape's shout brought Harry to attention. Snape's sleeve was on fire. Part of Harry was mortified. _Did I do that? _As Snape extinguished the fire, another unfamiliar part of Harry felt pleasure

_He deserved it. _Harry tried to dismiss the stray thought, and instead looked toward Snape.

Snape seemed to not know how to react, or who to blame. He gave Harry a long stare, and simply said in an uneven voice, "You're dismissed."

Harry ran out of the door as fast as he could manage.

* * *

The castle of Hogwarts was supposedly magnificent at night. Harry could see none of it's beauty while lying in his bed, exhausted but unable to fall asleep. His detention kept rewinding itself in his mind, the fire, his anger, all of it.

And the small pleasure of it would not be fought down, no matter the amount of guilt he thought he felt. What was wrong with him? Why would he want to hurt someone? Sure, Snape was an ass, but that didn't mean Harry wanted him to burn.

Did it? Could he really have that type of malice hidden within him?

He spent the night wondering if he was turning into his uncle, frightened to the core at that thought.

* * *

The food tasted odd today. Harry decided at breakfast. It just wasn't…_ good. _Or maybe he just wasn't as hungry as usual, which was strange coming from him.

Or maybe he was nervous about the students coming back. That could be it. It had been a week since the disastrous detention, and he had been avoiding Snape whenever possible. Even now, he was eating in the common room instead of the Great Hall; Dumbledore expected him to sit with the teachers.

Everyone was getting here tonight… It felt odd to know that he was the only one not riding the Hogwarts Express. Even last year, Ron had missed the train also.

At the thought of Ron, Harry wondered what his friends were doing. Ron would be eating breakfast at the Burrow, Harry's mind supplied. Mrs. Weasley would be fussing over the family, making sure everyone had everything. Fred and George would be teasing their siblings, and Ginny and Ron would be throwing back insults. Percy wouldn't join in, thinking he was too mature for such things.

Hermione would probably be enjoying breakfast too. She would either be head first in a book, trying not to spill anything on it's pages, or maybe she would be telling her parents how excited she was. She would probably go on and on over what she would be learning. Harry smiled at the thought of his best friends.

Together, they were a trio. _And trios tell each other everything, don't they?_

Guilt filled him at the thought. Didn't he owe them the truth? It was different then Snape demanding it, they wouldn't find amusement at it.

Should he tell them the truth of his home life? Harry had considered the idea before, but now he felt that maybe there was a chance they would understand… They stuck with him during the whole Basilisk venom episode, didn't they? But what if they didn't understand?

_They would be disgusted. _

Harry owed it to them, though. They deserved to know what a pathetic creature they were hanging out with…

Harry couldn't bring himself to eat the rest of the breakfast. Handing the remains of the food to Ashes, who gobbled it down, Harry went to take a shower, hoping it would clear his head.

Under the spray of water, Harry looked down at his scar ridden body. Would anyone really understand _this? _He traced a dark red scar located on his left thigh.

_"Get over here, you brat!" The obese man roared at his young nephew. _

_"Yes?" The seven year old was afraid to look up, knowing his uncle's face would be turning purple. _

_"Did you make breakfast for me yet?" _

_" No, sir…" He mumbled._

_"WHY NOT?!" _

_"The cupboard was lo-" He shouldn't of replied. His uncle slapped the boy across the face._

_"NO EXCUSES!" His uncle shouted, and pointed to the stove. "GO. NOW."_

_Harry scurried over to the counter, and picked up the loaf of bread. "Uncle?" He whimpered as Vernon suddenly towered over him._

_"No stalling, brat." The man's voice had a tinge of amusement. Oh god. He was planning something. _

_Harry picked up a butter knife to cut the bread, but one of his uncle's large hands stopped him. "Use this knife." _

_A long, thick steak knife was passed to him. So Vernon wanted him to accidentally cut himself? The boy thought that it wasn't really that clever._

_He began to cut slices of the bread when his uncle suddenly grabbed one of his arms and pulled him away from the counter. _

_The knife went flying through the air, with an ominous whistle. He felt it before he saw it. The sharp pain in his thigh attested to that fact, and he instinctively looked down. _

_No one should see a knife sticking out of their body, blood gushing downwards, red pearls staining the white tiles._

_"Now look at that." His uncle had smiled. "You've gone and stained your Aunt's nice clean floor." _

_"Can't let that go unpunished." _

While he was toweling off, he wondered to himself if even his best friends could understand a freak like him.

* * *

Author's note: Yay, I finally updated! It was a snow day today, so I finally had some free time to finish writing this chapter. Sorry if it's a bit short, though... Please review!


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